Page 9 of Stay for Me

I shook my head, grateful for the change of subject. “No, I have some work to catch up on, but I plan on being there next month.”

We were planning on readingRage Becomes Herby Soraya Chemaly next month, and there was no way in hell I’d been missing that.

“Right, of course,” she murmured softly, smiling at me before her eyes flicked up to my law firm sign.

Ten minutes later, I was in the front seat of my pride and joy, heading to out of town as I tried to brush off the small conversation. It was easier said than done today, and it frustrated me. My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I silently reminded myself of the facts.

I was a successful lawyer.

I made a life for myself in Hayden, Colorado.

I owned my own home and car.

I had no debt, multiple healthy savings accounts, and stock investments.

I had two employees and over fifty clients across the state.

I had a job that helped the little guys, and I was damn good at it.

“Brush it off, Diana,” I pushed out through my teeth as my chest began to ache. “What’s meant for you will find you.”

For the next three minutes, I whispered my affirmations, and with each word, the ache began to fade away.

My little red Mercedes flew down the two-lane road as my playlist softly spilled from the speakers. It was a bit of a drive out to Hallow Ranch, but I didn’t mind it. In fact, I looked forward to coming out here. Denver Langston was one of my oldest clients. I’d been working with him for over a decade now, and if not for him, I didn’t think my firm would be where it was today.

He was the first ranch owner to take a chance on me, the young, naïve lawyer, fresh from the bar exam.

I smiled as the memory of our first meeting came to mind. He had to duck his head to come into my office, and he’d been covered in mud, his clothes drenched from the rain. He took one look at me, and asked if I was good lawyer. I nodded, and he hired me on the spot. He needed me to handle the Hallow Ranch accounts, including the sponsor contracts for Evergreen Feed for his younger brother, Mason, who was a professional bull rider. Denver also trusted me to handle the custody negotiation with his son’s mother, Cathy. That was years ago, and now, all those problems seemed to have faded away.

Turning on my blinker, I hummed as the Hallow Ranch sign came into view to my left, and I slowed the car. As soon as my tires hit the gravel, I felt a sense of peace. I took in the beauty of the long driveway, my eyes scanning over the healing mountain-side in the distance, thankful the trees were finally starting to bloom again. The grass was green, the sky blue, the clouds pure white, and the sun bright yellow.

So much color.

So much life.

So much beauty.

The main house come into view, the crisp white paint matching the clouds above, the black roof of the red barn poking out from down the hill.

My stomach fluttered, and before I could let myself ask the one question that, without fail, always came to mind the second I parked my car, I shook my head. “Nope,” I muttered, popping the “p” and grabbing my bag, opening my door and swinging my legs out. The sunlight hit my pencil skirt, finally letting me see the true color of it.

An extremely dark, rich purple.

I hummed in approval, getting out of the car and closing the door with my hip before walking across the gravel--smoothly. It’d taken me at least five years to get the hang of walking in pumps across Denver Langston’s gravel, but now, it was breeze. I didn’t even have to watch my feet anymore. As my heels hit the brick of the porch steps, I saw movement in the porch swing.

Caleb, Denver’s son, was sprawled across it, his hands behind his head, his cowboy hat covering his face.

I watched him for a moment, trying to wrap my mind around how fast the darn kid was growing. He was almost my height now. Last year, he only came up to my shoulder. Then again, his father and uncle were both six-foot-seven, and I knew by the time he started high school, he would be towering over me and his step-mom. I watched his chest rise and fall steadily, a soft snore echoing from underneath his head.

I shook my head.

Cowboys.

They’ll nap anywhere, anytime.

I turned and softly knocked on the screen door. Valerie didn’t make me wait long, the main door swinging open seconds later. Her forest green eyes brightened as her lips spread into a breathtaking smile. “Hey, girl,” she greeted.

I returned the smile. “Good afternoon, Val.”